She shifted slightly, her knees pressing into the cushions on either side of his hips, dress hiked just high enough for her to feel the warmth of him beneath the fabric. Every brush of her thighs, every subtle movement of his hands on her back, created a rhythm that felt deeper than anything physical. Her breath stuttered as her hips moved—tentative at first, testing the pressure, the closeness, the friction that bloomed between them even through layers of clothes. Emily sinking her teeth into his lower lip, just shy of pain, and felt the shudder that rolled through him. His hands abandoned their teasing path to grip her waist instead, hauling her flush against him until the hard line of his arousal pressed unmistakably between her thighs. The noise she made was swallowed by his kiss, deeper now, hungrier. His tongue swept against hers in a rhythm that had her arching into him, her fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. She needed him bare—needed to feel his skin un
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